


A Kinky Kaname

by WestOrEast



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Cheating, F/F, First Time, Girl dick, MILF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 22:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15180839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WestOrEast/pseuds/WestOrEast
Summary: Homura loves Madoka. She really does. But there are needs Homura has that Madoka just can't satisfy. And then, one night, a drunken Junko does.





	A Kinky Kaname

**A Kinky Kaname**

“No, no, stop, Homura, it hurts!”

 

At Madoka’s frantic, pained cry, Homura instantly pulled back. The tip of her lower head popped out from between Madoka’s thin, pink lower lips. A worried expression appeared on Homura’s face as she knelt down next to her girlfriend.

 

“Are you okay, Madoka?” Homura asked, grabbing Madoka’s hands tightly.

 

“I am now,” Madoka said, still wincing a bit. She slowly uncrossed her legs as she looked up at Homura. “I’m sorry, Homura. You were just too big for me.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Homura said, her thick shaft swaying in between her thighs. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”  
  
“Thank you,” Madoka said, looking away, her cheeks red. “Maybe,” she blushed even harder, “you’d like me to touch you?” She reached out towards Homura’s crotch.

 

“Of course. I’d love that, Madoka,” Homura said, a strained smile on her face.

*******

A few hours later, Madoka was sound asleep, snoring cutely. Homura, on the other hand, was still wide awake. Tucking her girlfriend in, she left Madoka’s room and wandered the dark hallways of the Kaname house. Maybe a glass of water would help her sleep. Or at least quite the churning, boiling lust inside her lower stomach.

 

Madoka did her best to make Homura happy, of course. But Homura needed more than just Madoka’s hands to work out the lust she was feeling. And there was no way for Madoka to give that to her. She just wasn’t elastic enough to handle Homura’s rather large shaft.

 

Those thoughts chased each other through Homura’s head as she entered and then left the bathroom. Trying to take her mind off her frustrated lust, Homura tried to think about anything else. Like how empty the house was.

 

It was so quiet now, especially with Madoka’s dad and her brother gone for the weekend. Right now, the only people in the house were Madoka and Homura. Something the two of them had exploited, with mostly innocent fun. Jumping on the bed, having dessert first with dinner an afterthought, that sort of thing. And then the attempt at sex. Homura mentally winced. Well, at least they had managed to finish while the house was still quiet and deserted.

 

Even as Homura thought that, she was made a liar. The front door opened and then nosily swung shit. Homura winced, glad that she had closed the door to Madoka’s bedroom. No reason for her girlfriend to get up to take care of her drunk mother, not when Homura could do the same.

 

Padding on bare feet over to the front of the house, Homura could see Mrs. Kaname, or Junko, as she insisted on Homura called her, slumped on the floor. She was waving an empty hand around like there was a still a drinking glass in it as she slurred the words to a song she would _never_ sing sober.

 

“Heyyyy, Madoka,” Junko slurred as Homura knelt down next to her. “You wanna- hey, wait a minute,” she said, an exaggerated note of suspicion entering her voice. “You’re not little Mads.” She turned her head to look at Homura full on. A slow smile spread across her face. “You’re even better!”

 

Homura realized she hadn’t really gotten dressed when leaving Madoka. Panties didn’t count. Especially when Homura’s dick was big enough to form a noticeable bulge in them. Beyond that, she didn’t have any clothing on. The legs Madoka loved so much, the small breasts that were the smallest in the group, everything Homura had was on display to Junko’s gaze. And the older woman wasn’t nearly drunk enough not to realize what she was seeing.

 

Homura squeaked and tried to cover herself. It was far too late. Junko had already gotten an eyeful of everything of interest. And she wanted more. A arm landed across Homura’s shoulders as she crouched, turned to one side to try and hide her near-nakedness.

 

“Hey, Homureh, Homer, Homuhomu. You’ve been treating my daughter right, haven’t you?” Junko glared at Homura, a wave of alcoholic fumes nearly knocking Homura off her feet.

 

Unable to think of a response to that, Homura tried to get Junko to her feet. It was a lot harder than she thought it should be, especially since Junko was much more interested in staring intently at Homura’s face than at her legs. Reeling from side to side, almost bent double under the older woman’s weight, Homura led Junko to the master bedroom at the end of the house.

 

Homura collapsed onto the bed with Junko. There wasn’t really a way for her to avoid doing so. The older, uncoordinated woman brought her down in a tangle of limbs, and somehow rolled around so that she ended up laying on top of Homura.

 

Homura grunted and wiggled, trying to get out from underneath Junko. But it just wasn’t happening, especially with Junko somehow managing to always roll over and block any attempt to get free. Finally giving up, Homura lay back, gathering her strength for the next attempt.

 

“You really are a cutie, you know that?” Junko said, stroking Homura’s cheek. The young girl froze up at the contact, and not just because Junko had leaned in to let another wave of boozy fumes wash over her. “Where’d you come from, anyway?”  
  
Homura’s mouth dropped open. Did Juno not remember who she was? Was this normal for her? Homura had only gone through five loops so far (and she was sure this would be the last one), so she really didn’t know Junko that well.

 

Junko smiled, her smile appearing so much larger since her face was only centimeters from Homura’s head. As she stroked Homura’s hair, her body shifted around on top of Homura’s.

 

So far, Homura had managed to avoid certain thoughts. Thoughts about how an attractive middle-aged woman was on top of her, and how Homura was nearly naked. Or how filled with arousal she still was.

 

But now that Junko’s suit jacket was brushing over her bare nipples, that was impossible to ignore anymore. To Homura’s shame, she felt herself stiffening, rising out of her panties to press against Junko’s pantyhosed thigh. And despite the shame, she couldn’t stop herself. Homura didn’t think she’d be able to stop herself from growing hard even if Junko wasn’t pressed against her.

 

Worst of all, was the way Junko knew what she was doing to Homura, and how much she liked it. Her crooked smile became a bit more teasing as she shifted from side to side atop of Homura. Her arms slowly came up, sliding underneath Homura’s head to hold her face up against Junko’s.

 

Homura was feeling a little drunk herself. Part of it was shock and part of it was worry and part of it was lust. But mostly it was from Junko repeatedly breathing into her face, washing over her with her booze-laden breath.

 

“It was so good of Tomo to bring you home,” Junko said as she rubbed against Homura. “He knows just the kind of girl I like.” A worried expression appeared on her face as Junko pushed herself up. “You are a girl, right?” she asked, looking Homura’s body over. “Hey, if you’re a crossdresser, that’s fine too.”

 

“No! No, I’m a girl, Ms. Kaname,” Homura said, blushing and feeling a bit insulted. She wasn’t _that_ flat.

 

“Oh, don’t call me Ms. Kaname,” Junko said. A leer appeared on her face. “Only people at work do that. But if you want to call me _Mistress_ Kaname, that’s okay.” She pinched Homura’s cheek as she said that.

 

Homura wasn’t sure what to think of this. She knew Junko usually got drunk with her coworkers. But did she always get so horny as a result? Or was she always this, uh, _energetic_ , and the booze unleashed her? Or was this just a bizarre difference in the timeline, and all the other Junko’s Homura had briefly met weren’t like this at all? Oh God, and since this was going to be the last timeline Homura needed to do, did that mean she was going to be stuck with her girlfriend’s amorous mother?

 

And then Junko blew those thoughts out of the water by kissing Homura. The slender girl stiffened underneath the kiss, her lips teased apart by a tongue that had lost none of its coordination to the drink. Homura’s mouth was utterly claimed by Junko, the older woman overriding any attempt by Homura to kiss her back.

 

Junko was a good kisser. Homura was left gasping for breath by the time they separated, with an imprint of bright red lipstick overlapping her lips. Homura was suddenly glad that Madoka and her had already practiced kissing a lot. It would have been a shame to lose out on her first kiss to someone who wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

 

“You know, it’s a shame there’s such a difference in how many clothes the both of us have on,” Junko mused, drawing her fingers over Homura’s shoulders. “What do you think? Should I get undressed, or should you put on some more clothes?” Junko laughed at Homura’s frozen expression. “Kidding, I’m kidding.”

 

Junko sat up and started undoing the buttons on her suit jacket. While Homura didn’t mind watching her undress, she was far more aware of how the shift in Junko’s position had put a lot more weight on her crotch. Not nearly enough to be painful, but there was still a lot more pressure. A lot more _good_ pressure. Homura hoped she didn’t embarrass herself by cumming right now.

 

Her worries were only redoubled when Junko whisked off her jacket and shirt. Homura’s mouth felt as dry as a desert as she stared at the pale flesh that was exposed. The only reason she didn’t make a mess in her panties was because Junko lifted herself up to remove her skirt. And that left the older woman in nothing but her underwear.

 

Half an hour ago, nothing and nobody would have been able to get Homura to comment on Junko Kaname’s choice in underwear. If she had somehow been forced to, she would have guessed something along the line of Madoka’s underwear (without ever admitting she knew Madoka’s choice in underwear), plain and practical.

 

Homura would have been dead wrong, as she could now see. Junko had on black, frilly underwear, that presented her cleavage and made her breasts look even bigger than they actually were. Her panties were hooked to her pantyhose, which she showed no signs of removing. And Homura had thought she had good legs. But the way Junko’s legs looked, shining in her immaculate pantyhose, made Homura think of her own legs as quite inadequate.

 

Junko was a perfect picture of mature eroticism. Homura thought her heart was going to explode in her chest as she stared up at the older woman. That, or her dick would burst. Homura didn’t think she had ever been harder than she was right now, staring up at Junko. Her entire body burned with lust, needing to find comfort and satisfaction in Junko’s curvy, perfect body.

 

“Like what you see?” Junko asked, laughter rippling in her voice. “I know I do.” She reached down and grabbed Homura’s chest. “There’s something so cute about small breasts,” she mused, slowly, gently massaging them. Her fingers spread out over far more area than Homura’s breasts could cover. “It always make you look so slim and sleek.”

 

Homura was wondering just how drunk Junko was. She wasn’t slurring any words, and Homura thought (from an _extensive_ collection of books and movies, which were surely like real life) that she should be tripping over every other word. Was Junko just a bit drunk? Just enough to accept that a nearly naked stranger (Homura didn’t think Junko had realized who she was) was in her house? Did that happen often enough to raise any questions?

 

Another part of Homura was realizing she had a very good chance to finally burn off that lust that had been building and building inside her. Junko had given birth twice. There was no way she could be as painfully tight as Madoka. That just left the question of cheating on Homura’s beloved girlfriend. And that was a pretty big question.

 

The way Junko shifted her hips, grinding her crotch against Homura, instantly made that question fly away to the furthest reaches of Homura’s mind. Homura’s breath caught in her throat as she stared up at Junko. The older woman was biting her lip and looking down at Homura with an expression that wasn’t so much hungry as it was ravenous.

 

“You’re going to be a good girl for me, right? I’ve got a teenage daughter, you know.” For a single instant, a vision of Junko and Madoka together flashed through Homura’s mind. “I know what to give a good girl, and I know how to punish a bad girl.”

 

“Good!” Homura squeaked. “I’ll be a good girl.” Homura was blushing so hard she thought her cheeks were on fire. Homura didn’t have much experience with good girls versus bad girls, but some part of her told her that she was going to get what she wanted if Junko was pleased with her.

 

“Good girl,” Junko purred, letting a hand run down Homura’s stomach. Homura’s cock twitched as the older woman grabbed it. “And I didn’t even have to tell you what good girls get.”

 

Junko decided that showing was better than telling. She raised herself back up again, once more removing that delicious, warm pressure from Homura’s achingly stiff cock. Leering down at Homura, Junko rested her hands on her hips, fingers playing with the sides of her panties. Homura’s breath caught in her throat, getting a pleased smile from Junko. Then the older woman changed tack.

 

Junko reached down and pulled the bottom of her silk panties to one side. Homura’s gaze went down, down, down, until she saw, for only the second time, another woman’s special place. And she couldn’t believe how wonderful it looked. There was a string of arousal connecting Junko’s panties to her soaked lower lips, lips that were far wetter than Madoka ever had been.

 

It looked so soft and warm and wet and inviting… Homura closed her eyes and snapped her head away. If she stared at that sight for any longer, she knew she would have cum. And that would be humiliating, cumming without even the lightest of touches on her cock. Homura needed to calm down, to center herself, before she did something stupid.

 

Junko wasn’t making it any easier for her to calm down. The older woman had started masturbating. Homura peeked at her from under one eyelid, before slamming it back shut. But there was no way she was going to forget the sight of Madoka’s mother playing with herself, pumping one finger in and out of her perfect pussy. And there was certainly no way for Homura to block out the sounds, the wet squelching as Junko fingered herself.

 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Junko said, finally deigning to take notice of how Homura was squirming. “Is this your first time? Are you worried about impressing me?” She patted Homura’s cheek, leaving behind a wet spot. “What a _good_ girl.”

 

Homura felt an already familiar pressure settle back down on her crotch. What wasn’t so familiar was the wetness she could feel on her rod. Opening her eyes, she confirmed what she thought. Junko was rubbing her bare, wet, pussy against Homura’s cock. And it felt so good.

 

“Be a good girl and hold yourself in for just a bit longer,” Junko said, rising back up. Homura could see that her dick was coated with arousal. “There are so many things I can show a good girl like you.”

 

And with that, Junko lowered herself back down. And this time it was on Homura’s dick, not along it. There wasn’t a bit of resistance, just Homura’s rod spreading aside Junko’s wet folds as the older woman sank down and down onto Homura’s shaft.

 

Homura’s eyes widened. At the last possible second, she reduced the feelings from her body. She had never had to do this before, but Mami had insisted on teaching her how in the last loop. It was only because of this that Homura didn’t cum immediately. And there was still enough pleasure flowing up into her that it was a close thing.

 

And all the while, Junko kept on sinking down Homura’s shaft. She didn’t stop until the back of her thighs were pressed against Homura. She smiled down at Homura and then did something-

 

Oh God. Oh God! Homura could never have imagined how good a pussy could feel wrapped around her cock. The way Junko felt, her slick, hot folds wrapped around Homura, was even better than her dreams. And it wasn’t just the heat, or the wetness. Most of all, it was the way that Junko was massaging her, her inside walls slowly, rhythmically squeezing down on Homura. Junko was starting from the bottom of Homura’s cock and working her way up, before reversing the process and going back down.

 

It was amazing, so far beyond Madoka’s hands and occasional kiss planted on Homura’s shaft. Homura was surprised with herself that she didn’t cum in the first five seconds, as Junko’s experienced pussy blew her mind. A whine escaped Homura’s lips, a strangled expression of base joy.

 

Junko knew exactly what she was doing, though she was still a bit unclear on who exactly she was doing it to. She smirked down at Homura, a devilish light in her eyes as she slowly rode the girl underneath her.

 

“Who’s a good girl? Who’s my perfect little girl?” Junko asked as she rode Homura. “Don’t be afraid to cum for Mommy,” she wiggled her hips from side to side, making Homura’s cock shift around. “Don’t be afraid to give Mommy a nice, thick load of cum, filling me up with _all_ of your love. Show Mommy how much you love her.”  
  
Homura jerkily nodded. Part of her was wondering if Tatsuya was in for a very large surprise in ten years. The rest of her didn’t care about that. All that part of Homura cared about was feeling as good as she possible could.

 

“And you’re a very _strong_ girl, for holding out for so long, too,” Junko said. Her hands were playing with Homura’s breasts again. “I thought you were going to cum within a minute. But you’ve gone on for so long.” She smiled down at Homura. “But don’t be afraid. You can pump your hot, creamy load into my wet cunt any time you like.”

 

Homura hesitantly nodded. She didn’t want to give up on this pleasure, not yet. Even if the pleasure of an orgasm would be something beyond anything else she had felt. But right now, she had to keep fucking the older woman. She could see how hard she would cum later. Right now, she had to thrust her hips upward as Junko rose and fell on her cock.

 

Homura rested her hands on Junko’s hips. She couldn’t believe how warm Junko’s body was. She could feel a bit of sweat beading on Junko’s skin as the older woman rose up and down on her.

 

As amazing as this felt, Homura was missing the emotional connection she had with Madoka. Her precious pink girlfriend could make Homura’s heart feel warm, a part of her that Junko just wasn’t reaching. But Homura still couldn’t bring herself to try and push Junko off of her. Just like she needed emotional closeness, she also needed physical release, and Junko was giving her the best kind of release possible.

 

In the dim light, Junko’s body looked perfect. Her pale body was encased in her lingerie, the sensual clothes she had worn to work, spending all day wrapped up in lace as she… negotiated contracts, or whatever it was that she actually did. Homura wasn’t sure.

 

And it didn’t matter. What did was that Junko was the picture of mature, sensual womanhood, just like her daughter was the picture of adorable cuteness. And Homura, unbelievably, got to experience them both.

 

“You know, you kind of look like my daughter’s girlfriend,” Junko said as she rode Homura. “Maybe I should wake her up. She loves her momma so much that I’m sure we could share you.”

 

Homura nearly choked. The thought of Madoka being here in the room, maybe even riding Homura’s face as her mother rode Homura’s cock, was like, was like… Homura didn’t have the words to describe how erotic and tempting she found the idea. But there was no way it could happen. For one, there wasn’t the slightest chance Homura would let Junko climb off of her before she had cum. Homura _needed_ to cum, to work out all the unbearable tension that had built up.

 

“Or maybe I could show Madoka the ropes,” Junko mused. “You wouldn’t mind helping me teach my daughter how to handle a big, thick dick,” she shifted her hips each time, “would you?”

 

There was no possible response to that. Instead, Homura tightened her grip on Junko’s hips, pushing upward as much as she could. Anything to avoid having to answer the question. And, luckily, her dick reaching up deep into Junko’s wet pussy helped distract the older woman. She didn’t bring up the question again.

 

It didn’t help distract Homura, though. Rather, it did, but only from the vividly detailed fantasy of a threesome with the Kaname women. It didn’t help distract her at all from the wonderful, marvelous feeling of Junko’s pussy.

 

It was too much. The pleasure inside Homura had been rising and rising, and she didn’t have a single trick left to push it off. The boiling, roiling churning in her lower belly told her she was about to cum, and that there was no way left to put if off any longer. Homura’s hands tightened on Junko’s body, fingers whitening with pressure as she squeezed down. Inside Junko’s wet, warm, welcoming folds, her dick twitched.

 

“Jun- Junko!” Homura gasped, feeling the arousal in her belly tightening. “I’m going to cum!”

 

“Good girl,” Junko moaned. “Let it all out, pump it all inside me.”

 

There was absolutely no reason for Homura not to do as she was told. The pleasure inside her had been building and building and she needed release more than she had ever needed anything else in her life. She dropped the mental barriers she had used to disconnect herself from her body. Sensation came roaring back, boosting her orgasm to even greater heights.

 

Homura’s orgasm was the best in her life. She thrashed around underneath Junko, her cock pulsing as she unloaded jet after jet into the older woman. Her seed seemed so much hotter and thicker than it ever had been before, and there was a lot more of it as well. But the increase in cum couldn’t compare to the increase in pleasure. Homura’s eyes rolled up in the back of her head and tortured fragments of words escaped her lips as she came.

 

And the feeling of Junko cumming on top of her only prolonged the orgasm. The way the older woman squeezed down on top of her, pussy clenching down in a way even tighter than she had managed before was pure, divine bliss. Homura squirmed around on the bed, her fingers tightening on Junko’s hips as the older woman leaned forward, hands landing on either side of Homura’s head.

 

Even in the dim light of the bedroom, Homura could see that Junko’s eyes were wide and unfocused. Although the way her breasts were bouncing even when encased in Junko’s bra was just an interesting sight. Homura thought she could even seem her nipples forming small points in the fabric.

 

Junko slowly slid off of Homura and laid down on the bed next to her. Homura couldn’t believe how much cum was flowing out of Junko’s pussy. It was a veritable flood of semen rushing out of her lower lips, running down her skin to pool on the bed.

 

“That was fun,” Junko said. There was a tired but satisfied note in her voice. “How soon do you think you’ll be ready again?”

 

“Eh?!” Homura’s gaze went from Junko’s pussy to her face there was almost a whip crack of displaced air.

 

“How soon are you going to get hard enough to fuck me again?” Junko said, slowly over-enunciating each word. “You’re young. Surely you’ve got a few more rounds in you.”

 

Homura didn’t know if she did. Her cock always went soft after an orgasm, and she had always felt satisfied enough after one to not want to seek out another one for a while. Junko opened her eyes and saw the look on Homura’s face. Her smile was a bit sinister.

 

“Oh, you don’t know? Well, there’s ways to change that. Now,” her tone became a bit distracted as she talked to herself, “where did I leave that lube. The strap-on should be…”

 

The arm across Homura’s body kept her from leaving as Junko mused to herself about ways to bet Homura’s dick hard again very quickly. Homura didn’t think she understood exactly what was being discussed, but she had a feeling she would be getting a through education on the various terms very soon.

 

Homura staggered down the hallway back to Madoka’s bedroom. She felt sore, but satisfied. Very sore, in ways she hadn’t expected, but still very satisfied. Who knew how good getting multiple orgasms felt? Her mind was as unbalanced as her body. There were only a few things she could really focus on. One was the hope that Madoka could someday be as skilled a lover as her mother was.

 

The other was that Madoka would soon be getting _another_ younger sibling. The mental image of Junko pregnant, with a bulging belly, made Homura’s cock twitch. Then she thought of a pregnant Madoka, and quickly had to think of something else to keep herself from getting hard again.

 

The third thing Homura was thinking about was how bad the lighting had been inside Junko’s room, Hopefully, the older woman wouldn’t realize who had been with her in the morning, when Madoka and Homura had breakfast with her. That would be embarrassing.

 

As Homura crawled into bed with the still sleeping Madoka, she sighed. She wasn’t sure if she could handle many more sleepovers like this.


End file.
